Delineation
by Valerianna
Summary: A real slice of life; series of one-shots with a loose plot. An OC who had the memory of reality enters the HP universe to find out the various etymology of magic. How are wands created, what does it mean to be talented at magic, or continuity charms versus temporary charms...
1. The Creation of Wands-I

A/N: I want to begin a series.

A series in which sets in the universe of Harry Potter, but with the main character self inserted and give reader the perspective of an outsider entering into the universe of Harry Potter.

The beauty of this series is that it should be episodic. So this way I am truly able to complete each little story without the pressure of finishing any, which, hats off to me, I have never caved into, haha.

Each story will be dealing with aspects or nuisances of the magical world that Rowling perhaps have not dealt with yet, I shall explain more as stories progresses. You can view this as a documentary of some sort, but with a plot involved, more or less.

Therefore without further ado. Let's begin.

Disclaimer: all etiology are based on best or most logical guesses of the HP universe.

The Creation of Wands-I

I had awoken in my apartment with the strangest sensation—that I need to go out and explore instead of staying put. I don't mean going out of the house for grocery shopping, I mean into the worlds I need to explore this world before—heavens forbid, that I wake up in a world without magic again.

I mean that in every sense of the world. I shall pause a bit to let this bit of information sink in.

There's a difference, because the reality I perceive in my previous world, or rather, life, versus this one. Many subtleties I think I shall discuss later, when I think of them. But one distinct difference at the moment would definitely be the feeling of the natural world around you. It's as if the energy revolves around everything and if you concentrate just a little harder you'd feel them in proportion to your own. For example, if you step in the grass and the earth beneath your feet and you're able to feel the fluid flow of their aura. Almost like thin breaths whispering all around you. You feel some sliver of strand coming and wrapping around you feet, and the slivers of energy flowing around your hand as you try to caste a spell. You draw magic from around you, and you command those energies to do your biddings. Of course an individual witch or what's is able to summon up enormous magic within themselves—but it's exhausting works not unlike how one would run a marathon where every cell in your body would be screaming for you to rest. In this world. Your energy is your magic. It is much more effective to use your energy and coordinate with the magic from the natural world around you. Rather than trying to conjure up something new from energies you held within yourself.

As with everything, of course there are exceptions, which shall be explained later.

Having adjusted to this new world for almost a year now, the novelty have worn off some what. At least, it's unlike the first few days here where I practiced simple chants form all the texts books I could find—to the point where they have distracted me from my daily job in this life. I was so close to getting fired 8; rather not relive that again. As I adjusts I have discovered new and interesting things almost daily's like an immigrant who have came to a brand new country for the first times. Terrified, excited. Amazed, and above all, extremely curious.

And so I spent almost a year cultivating my presence and personality to people around me, and got myself transferred to another position in the office. One that is paid way less but would allow traveling. I also have been moonlighting in a non-magical humans company by doing various odd jobs like stacking objects, moving heavy loads, or delivery. The money I receive I exchanged them into Gallons. I do hope that no one would mind, since I was more familiar with the muggle world this seemed like an obvious solution at first to save me from destitute. Now I'm saving up for traveling. My boss has known about it, he was curious why I would degrade myself to work for muggles but he lets it slide because it didn't interfere with my regular work which was mainly to fetch things for him.

My job now is filling a small column in a medium sized newspaper publishing house and my job is to fill the corner of empty pages with interesting and anecdotes and stories of the muggle world. Sort of like a "look at how these other species live, how fascinating" type of deal. I rather love it because this comes so naturally to me—while I am very keen to learn how the magical world operates.

One of the main writers fell sick last week, and I had to step in and fulfill the role in writing a three page spread about the experiences of acquiring a magical wand and its ingredients for his, I have to travel to London and find the famed Wand shop—Ollivander's .

I was so excited for this trip I almost forgot something crucial. My origins begin as a muggle. A no-maj, if you will, in Canada. When I have entered this world I am a full adult witchy but I was by no means—a pure mood. If I venture to London all by myself the silly charms I've been practicing would not help me even slightly. It is wonderful to be amazed at your newfound powers of levitation or organizational spells, or turning on the lights but it is a whole other field of study when one must express their defenses of the dark arts should the need arises in the face of an attack.

To be honest, I had never ventured beyond the gates of this city of New York, at least, the magical side of it. I have gotten comfortable with my surrounding and I'm afraid to leave.

Leading back to the real world, I shoved a copy of "Defense against the Dark Arts Sixth Edition" in my suit case, just in case. And with that, I'm off to London.

My name is Charlotte by the way. Charlotte Lovell.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

TBC

A/N: I will upload shorter chapters within a quicker time frame. This story starts off slow but rest assure, the Creation of Wands story arc is already finished. I will not abandon this.


	2. The Creation of Wands-II

The Creation of Wands- II

One cannot travel to another continent through Disapparation.

This requires magic so powerful that may have been on a mythical level.

I don't have time to write down the details of disappatation. Basically, disapparation is a magical art that requires the user to concentrate and be in full control of their body. You'd have to be attuned with energies around you really well. For example, you must know exactly the way your hair curls around your face to know exactly how you would envision yourself in the new surroundings. I suspect there's more to that, but I have no idea how to because I never use it. Actually normal people around the office doesn't use it. It would be considered rude to suddenly appear in the middle of a conversation or drop in unannounced. Usually people use it unless they want something delivered right away, or run away as fast as the could. This some times does not work as your pursuer may sometimes be more powerful than you are and could easily track your magical signature.

To my knowledge no one has ever disapparated across a continent, or to a brand new place they have never been. Therefore this sort of explained why the wizarding world have not cultivated Mars yet. I suppose. Be as it may, I find some comfort in knowing that even magic cannot defy nature. Not completely.

So I, like everyone else, disguised myself as a muggle and bought a ticket to the UK.

Many witches and wizards have trouble figuring out how to properly navigate the muggle technologies. I have even been helping my colleagues around the office for various things like how to use a credit card. How to buy things or traveling online. How to write an email and use the computer, etc. I sort of became the muggle bridge between wizards and witches. To my amusement. There's less stigmatism towards muggle now these days, ever since various reforms and efforts of politicians.

Now let me spend a few words describing garments of this world. I purchased my business robe through Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. This robe costs me three gallons because I wanted the self-repairing function it had offered. This is a good and reliable product of clothing that truly fits all occasions. Albeit a little dull and bland, but I have worn this more times than I could count—but it is feeling more and more drabby by the minute. I shall have to buy something new, perhaps something more stylish in London. For now, I will never wear this, as it is a casual work trip. I do like the way wizard robes always drifts around me, like a cape waving into the wind. It makes me feel like I'm at a cosplaying convention all the time at first, but as work and life caught on the novelty wore off.

And so I hailed a cab to JFK.

As I sat at the gate terminal wondering about the meaning of my life and why I was transported over here, I have always wondered if witches and wizards could detect each other's presence without knowing it. For example, if I have had experience with magic for a while, then if I meet another witch or wizard would I automatically knew they possess the ability to perform magic? How does one reveal their magical status without visibly casting a spell? I wonder if there's a secret handshake or a secret nod—if there was, I do not know it. I can't really go around near people's ears and utter "wingardium laviosa" all the time.

This brings me to the fact that I am not a terribly good witch. I can barely perform simple charms without fail. When I first woke up in this world I spent the first few months trying to get to know my surrounding and not to get fired. I was living on the edge of urban poverty—having an apartment but unable to pay rent, having a job but due to me not knowing stuff and grossly incompetent in it I was almost fired. Too dazzled by the strange world I was in and trying out all the magical spells I knew was available, and soon I was gifted at spells that cleans and reverts messes. I have never achieved the fluency of being able to reflectively utter a spell as if it's a second nature, this is due to two reasons, that I was never a witch from birth, and second, my job does not really require magic. It requires layout and formatting, and photocopying, three things I was rather good at even in my previous life.

There are so many questions I've never truly asked anyone around me. I figured I'd find out for myself sooner or later, or one day I will find the person I truly trust and tell them about it and ask all the questions I have about this world. I am not a chipper person by nature and I tend to shy away from social interactions if I can help it.

As the plane have begun to take off, I thought about flying— it is something I have not had the courage to try. I suppose the owner of this body previously attended Ilvermony and had to take flying lessons. I never got a chance to. First of all, Charlotte does not own a broomstick. Second of all, a broomstick is way too expensive. Charlotte was living on the edge of permanent poverty when I woke up in her body. Come to think of it I have not realized that, for a full year in the magical world most of my life is being caught up by work and nothing else.

I became more excited about this journey more than 


	3. The Creation of Wands-III

The Creation of Wands-III

I had arrived in London, after getting out from the airport I quickly made my way to the famous bar not a kilometer away from the gates of the airport and reported to the bartender that I am a foreigner and need to report to the Ministry of Magic.

He pointed towards a bathroom which seemed very dingy and insignificant at first. I have been in the magical world enough to know that it's boring things that carry the most surprises; upon closing the door and waving my wand in front of it a few times a string of letters appeared:

"Welcome travelers, all foreign guests must use portal and report to the Ministry of Magic promptly. Please be advised to have your identification ready, Thank you for visiting the United Kingdom."

The first thing I thought was that I did not realize that Wizards also follow arbitrary border rules made up by muggles—or perhaps some wizards took part in the drawing up of border lands. It would be interesting to find out whom.

The reporting process was easy enough. I entered the Ministry (which is a wonder onto itself and I shall have to write about it later) and went straight to the office of Foreign Visitation. Stated my business had a magical tracker placed on my arm and went on my way. The lady who helped me also gave me a stack of tourist information. She's overly helpful, which I think may be quite useful in this profession.

"Have these ready, deary. Even though you are here on business, it never hurts to have a little fun once in a while."

I exited the Ministry and checked my tourist map for my inn, which conveniently was only a few kilometers away, and I did a swift spell on my feet I can walk faster, up to three times as fast and get there in no time. It's almost night-time; I had a quick dinner and go straight to bed. Although the spell will have me extreme exhaustion I have the rest of the night to sleep it off.

After arriving at the Flying Veela Inn, I wrote a quick note to Ollivander and had the owl derby send my message through to confirm my appointment. My excitement could not be overstated. It's actually quite lucky I made myself exhausted, it's a useful spell but very dangerous, as once you're over the point of exhaustion, natural physical harm like tearing ligaments would be in place. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

XxXxXxXxXxXxxXxXxXxXxXxX

A/N: This chapter was shorter than I had expected, things will definitely pick up next chapter, which will be posted forthwith.


	4. The Creation of Wands-IV

The Creation of Wands- IV

Venturing into Diagon Alley for the first time was extremely intimidating for me. Mainly because I am not British. Also I am pretty sure that Charlotte has never originally travelled anywhere outside of North America. Her application for foreign visitation permit was quite complicated.

As I read the instructions of how to enter Diagon Alley, a younger witch of about fifteen-years-old came up front of me and said, "I'll do it" in a rather crossed way. She knocked on the brick a few times in a pattern that seemed like gibberish to me and the bricks begun to shift and the walls split open to reveal Diagon Alley.

What an amazingly glorious sight. Thankfully I am in my business robe because everyone is dressed in full on magic ware. I guess I still have that muggle self-consciousness in me since I retain my memories from another reality. All the witches and wizards are busy shopping and looking around through all the wonderful shops. Some are ancient, some are newly renovated. Some sell weird magical tools, some sell books and school supplies, with all the teenagers shuffling around and giggling, I had just realized that it's August, shopping season for back to school.

Then all the kids must be getting ready for—

"Hogwarts! Mum, I don't want to go to Durmstrang," a boy with silvery hair protested.

"Hush Drew. You'll follow your brother's footsteps. Durmstrang will whip you into shape."

A rather cross and tired looking woman dressed in a elaborate looking silky robe scolded the boy.

"Mother, for heavens sakes. Let him do whatever he wants." A bored looking wizard dressed in plain black robes followed them and commented, "he'll have to learn how to live his own life."

"He can make decisions in the future. For now, he must go to Durmstrang. You went to the same academy and you did well."

"Yes mother, but it's because of talent. Not the school." That voice sounded so unbelievably smug I had to turn my head to look at this boy, who, as it turned out, was a young man in his early twenties. Plainly dressed but extremely handsome. Worst of all, he knew his charm all too well. He caught my eye and looked away in mere seconds, I looked away as well and frowned— I despise people who overflows with hubris and lack of respect for others.

"Demetrius, you should take better note of..." his mother was scolding.

Their voices drifted away as I turned a corner and was in sight of Ollivander's. While walking towards the door I had wondered why witches and wizard's names were mostly ridiculously old—to the point of ancient Greek like.

The top was engraved in fine gold lettering still printed on the front wooden banner, "Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC".

I stood in front, almost wanting to cry at this strange yet familiar scene in front of me. I may have dreamt this moment a thousand times and I wanted to scream and jump up and down in this crowded and busy street but I could only stand and stare. No one knows the great joy or pain I have experienced for the past few minutes, as I stood silently in the streets staring up at the iconic plate.

Finally I have decided to go in—pushing the doors and stepped inside the musky and ancient shop.

There were two twin girls giggling, trying out Wands one by one. The man at the counter looked quite young, maybe in his thirties, looked at me and said, "Miss, if you could wait for a moment I'll be right with you."

"No worries!" I yelled out, and stood in the corner watching the two young girls trying one wands after the other waving around for fun. While the man kept repairing the damages being made from untamed magic users while shelving tried wands back to their wand boxes and flew them back to their places on their respective shelves, and grabbing new ones and placing them in the girls' hands.

"Ohh—I want this blue looking one. Can I buy this one, Mr. Ollivander?" One of the girls asked while giggling. Waving it around while streams of steam releases at the top of the wand.

"Now, now. Miss Cavendish, we want to choose the best wand possible for you and your sister. You wouldn't want to practice your homework and accidentally soaking all your classmates, would you?" He asked back kindly with a wave of his hand, and the wand flew out from the child's hand and placed back in its box.

I took a look at around the store for the first time. My mind hungrily devouring the place; wanting to memorize all of the scenes in front of me. I wished desperately I had a phone with me at the moment so I could snap photos of every inch of this place, from the silkiest ribbons thing the boxes together to the large heavy shelves made from ancient wood. There's an house elf in the far far back corner dressed in plane cotton canvas clothes and using waxes and oils to polish the wands one by one. She was so very inconspicuous I almost missed her. This entire shop is filled with various decors and ancient magic they look almost disorganized if not for the strangest symmetry of items. They made the shop look rather dusty, and the brightest light came from the windows where the two girls stood in front of.

Almost immediately one of the twins squeaked and yelled out, "oh my, Mr. Ollivander, I think this might be it!" She was so happy with a wand that looked green and slightly curvy that she jumped up and started dancing. The wand emits a small trail of sparkles after her.

Ollivander smiles happily. It's very obvious that when a young wizard or witch find their Wands he feels enormously proud and happy for them. "I think you may be right, Miss."

The other twin sudden looked worries, "Mr. Ollivander, what about me?"

"You'll find yours too, Miss. we just have to look a little more. Don't fret." He waved his hand and kept going.

The first girl was already waving around her new wand and pushed open the doors to the shop, "Im going to tell mum! Mum! Look! Look!"

The twin that was left in the shop grew more and more despondent as she tried on more wands in her hands. Her eyes reflect more and more frustration until she couldn't take it anymore and started sobbing.

"Oh Dear!" Mr. Ollivander quickly swooped down to meet her at eye level, "What's the matter?"

"Lucinda always gets everything first." She sobbed, "I'll never find the perfect wand for myself and I'll always be behind Lucinda for the rest of my life!"

"Nono, my dear." He hushed her gently, " no good witch or wizard have ever walked out of my shop without a wand. You seemed like a very good little girl, you're certainly very kind and thoughtful, aren't you?"

"I suppose." She said begrudgingly.

"Then you shall find your want even if it's the last thing I'll ever do. You've only tried on a tenth of the want in the shop! We have got to try more—the harder it is to find something the more precious it should be, right?"

"I see." She wiped away her tears.

And sure enough in the next wand she held, her entire body was lifted up by the wand she was holding, and the wand was covered with a silvery sheen when she held it."

"Well, there you go." Ollivander laughed happily, "you've found your wand, and quite a good want it is too! Unicorn hair, thirteen and a half inches—wonderful flexibility. A brilliant wand for a kind young witch."

The girl was so excited she could hardly speak.

Just then the doors of the shop were pushed in and a middle aged witch carried many shopping bags came in with Lucinda. She greeted Ollivander warmly, "Gareth, I trust you took good care of my little rascals?"

"They are lovely girls, Beatrice". He smiled.

It was then I discovered that this man is not the famous Garrick Ollivander we all knew and love. He must be a descendent of the original wand maker. It's ridiculous of me to keep hoping I'd bump into one of the main casts—I have realized I'm simply lucky beyond my wildest dreams by being here.

"What's the damage?"

"Twenty-right gallons in total."

The lady counted out the clines from her purse and in the middle of rambunctious little girls yelling, she paid and left the shop with them.

The last misplaced wand has been reshelved properly, and Ollivander turned to me and said warmly, "Now, what can I do for you, Miss...?"

"Charlotte Lovell." I said, stepping up to shake his hand. "And you have no idea how pleased I am to meet you—thank you, thank you, thank you."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxxXxXxXxXxX

A/N: This is going to be a slice of life story at first.


End file.
